


sleeping back to back (you're turning away)

by nothanksweregood (eavis)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Wolves, Canon Compliant, Gen, Kissing, harry broke niall's heart and we all know it, people being bad at communication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-05
Updated: 2017-09-05
Packaged: 2018-12-23 16:09:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11993274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eavis/pseuds/nothanksweregood
Summary: He types ‘Nialler’s a wolf not joking’ as the group name and then‘lads does anyone know why nialls turned into a wolf’Zayn and Liam’s checkmarks pop up green almost at once. Zayn says‘haha’even though he knows Louis is telling the truth, because he’s a wanker.Liam says‘lou im in a mtng is this important.’‘yes it’s sodding important NIALLS A WOLF.’Louis types back furiously.Harry’s checkmark finally lights up, followed a second later by‘Sorry; who’s this?’Zayn sends an eye-roll emoji, and Louis can’t help but echo it in real life as he responds‘come off it youre not fooling anyone help me fix this HAROLD.’‘harry doesnt have a whatsapp,’Liam chimes in helpfully, just as Harry says,‘I don’t have whatsapp.’“Oh, for God’s sake!” Louis explodes. He takes a picture of Niall and sends it.‘I AM SERIOUS STOP MESSING ABOUT’.‘that could b any random wolf,’Zayn says next, and Louis kicks him out of the group chat.





	sleeping back to back (you're turning away)

**Author's Note:**

> written for the wolves fest! thank you so much to the mods for organising this and thank you as ever to my awesome beta b [littlepetlouis](http://www.littlepetlouis.tumblr.com) for not only the beta but always being there when i need encouragement. love u <3

“Nialler!” Louis bounces into the room, thin vest sweat-stuck to his body in a way that’s going to turn clammy in the A/C very fast. “Ready for that night out you promised me?” He comes to an abrupt stop just inside the door at the sight of Niall crumpled on the floor, looking as though he fell in the middle of changing. “Niall!” Louis is by his side in an instant, the adrenaline high of a second ago turned to panic. He rolls Niall over as gently as he can, throat tight and hands shaking. He can’t - he’s not losing someone  _else_ , what if Niall’s - but no, Niall’s groaning, eyes fluttering open blearily.

Louis sits back on his heels, scrubbing wet palms down the fronts of his trousers. “You had me worried there for a bit, love.”

“Lou?” Niall still looks unfocused, and there’s something odd looking about his limbs - like they’re not quite the right shape. “I don’t - I feel weird.”

Before Louis can offer to call his security or 999 or, hell, Niall’s  _mum_ , a full body shudder tears it’s way through Niall’s body, and instead of the familiar shape Louis knows so well - there’s a wolf.

“Er,” Louis says.

The wolf whines.

Without taking his eyes off of it, Louis pulls his phone out of his pocket and stabs at his ‘recent calls’ menu. “Niall’s turned into a wolf.”

Somewhat predictably, Zayn hangs up on him.

Louis calls him back and spends ten minutes convincing Zayn that no, he’s not taking the piss, and no, he’s not high, and no, it’s not just a new dog Niall’s got because Louis  _literally watched Niall turn into a wolf_. He texts over a picture of wolf-Niall flopped down across his feet, panting happily, and there’s a long pause before Zayn says slowly, “‘s Niall’s eyes.”

“I  _told_ you,” Louis says, triumphant, and Niall  _whuffs_ at him in agreement.

“So,” Zayn says. “Er. Why’d you call me, then?”

“I -” Louis says. “Listen, I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

Niall yips once, which Louis chooses to take as an agreement.  _Naturally_ Niall agrees with him; Niall’s the best.

“Who  _else_ was I going to call?” Louis bursts out, exasperated. He’s not going to fuckin’ blab to the world his best mate’s gone and turned into a wolf, is he?

“Dunno, like. Deo, maybe. Or Harry, since the two of you are so close now.”

There’s a silence that doesn’t even deserve the name, tense as it is. “Not cool, bro,” Louis says very quietly.

“Sorry.” Zayn actually somewhat sounds it, unlike when he’d texted two days after leaving for a ‘break’ that he was sorry but he wasn’t coming back at all. He adds, voice even slower now, “Makin’ up with everyone these days, aren’t you?”

“Starting to regret it with you,” Louis snipes and then stops himself, taking a deep breath. “Look, I’m sorry I bothered you. I’ll let you get back to -” He swallows down the three or four digs that come easily to the tip of his tongue “ - whatever.”

“No, bro, wait.” Zayn sounds properly awake for the first time. “Let me know what happens, yeah? If there’s anything I can do, like.”

“Air-lift us to Ireland so we can figure out what the hell’s going on?” Louis asks and then sighs. “Yeah, I will. Later, Z.”

“Yeah,” Zayn says and rings off. Louis tosses the phone onto the bed and looks down at Niall. Niall looks back, the picture of innocence. “What I need,” Louis says sternly, “is one of them wizard types, like Dumbledore or whatever. The kind that passes out wisdom in stupid-sounding riddles. He’d know how to fix this.”

Niall just tilts his head on one side, watching him, and Louis groans and falls backwards onto the bed, bouncing once or twice. He gropes blindly for his phone and brings up whatsapp, forming a new group. He adds Niall first, because why should he be left out just because he happens to be a wolf just now, and then Liam and Harry and, after a brief hesitation, Zayn.

He types ‘Nialler’s a wolf not joking’ as the group name and then ‘ _lads does anyone know why nialls turned into a wolf’_

Zayn and Liam’s checkmarks pop up green almost at once. Zayn says ‘ _haha’_ even though he  _knows_ Louis is telling the truth, because he’s a wanker. Liam says ‘ _lou im in a mtng is this important.’_

‘ _yes it’s sodding important NIALLS A WOLF.’_ Louis types back furiously.

Harry’s checkmark finally lights up, followed a second later by ‘ _Sorry; who’s this?’_

Zayn sends an eye-roll emoji, and Louis can’t help but echo it in real life as he responds ‘ _come off it youre not fooling anyone help me fix this HAROLD.’_

 _‘harry doesnt have a whatsapp,’_ Liam chimes in helpfully, just as Harry says, ‘ _I don’t have whatsapp.’_

“Oh, for God’s sake!” Louis explodes. He takes a picture of Niall and sends it. ‘ _I AM SERIOUS STOP MESSING ABOUT’._

 _‘that could b any random wolf,’_ Zayn says next, and Louis kicks him out of the group chat.

* * *

It’s a solid half hour later by the time Louis has managed to convince them that no, he’s not joking or high and there really is a wolf and that the wolf is Niall. This last with help from Niall, who sits up, begs, shakes, and nods enthusiastically when Louis asks him if he’s really Niall.

Presumably, Liam’s not actually all that invested in his meeting, because he’d been firing off increasingly misspelled queries about Niall’s wellbeing until Louis snaps at him that he knows perfectly well how to take care of Niall, thank you very much.

Niall had, in fact, gone to sleep sprawled happily on top of Louis, head still after a half hour of nudging for pets whenever Louis took a hand away to type. He’s snoring a little, and Louis can’t help but rub a hand behind one furry ear, fond.

A loud buzzing interrupts this, and Louis glances at his mobile, puzzled, before realising it’s Niall’s, discarded in the pile of Niall’s clothes.

He scrambles out from under Niall with some difficulty, snatching the thing up and seeing ‘Bressie (Chief)’ along with a picture of Niall with his mountainous friend. Relief floods over him. Of course Breslin; he should have thought to call him sooner. He’s Irish and mates with all Niall’s family - he’ll know what’s going on.

“Chief!” Bressie starts as soon as he’s answered. “Too busy watchin’ the golf to answer a text? Listen, I - “

“Hey, mate, this’s Louis, actually, Niall’s erm. Sleeping.”

“Oh, right. Well, just tell him - “

“Wait,” Louis interrupts, “Listen, mate, I promise I’m not messing you about when I ask this. Just, uh. You don’t know of any kind of weird...thing that’d make Niall uhm. Turn into a something else, like?”

There’s a beat of silence where Louis is sure Breslin’s going to call everyone he knows and tell them Louis Tomlinson’s gone complete ‘round the bend, and then Bressie is sighing. “Has he gone and turned into a wolf, then? I  _told_ him this was gonna happen, but ‘course he didn’t take me advice.”

Louis realises his jaw is hanging open and he closes it sharpish. He never thought it’d be this easy. “Thank  _God_ you know what’s going on, mate; thought I’d lost the plot. How do I fix him?”

“Oh, he’ll change back on his own, soon as the pack’s all there.”

Louis opens his mouth. Closes it again. Asks with a sort of sinking feeling, “You - er. That wouldn’t happen to be, like. His da and Theo, like.”

Bressie laughs, rich and warm in Louis’ ear, and one of Niall’s (currently furry) ears twitches as though he hears it, too. “Nah, mate. ‘S gotta be you lot, hasn’t it.”

“Gotta be,” Louis agrees faintly.

“When Nialler’s human-shaped again tell him I called, yeah?” Breslin sounds perfectly cheerful as he rings off and not at all as though he’s fucked everything up six ways to Sunday.

Louis tosses Niall’s mobile in the general direction of the bed and slides down the wall to sit on the floor and give relief to his feelings in a long and creative stream of cursing. When he looks up, Niall is looking at him reproachfully. This is not, he realises after a second of confusion, because of the swearing, but because Niall’s phone has fallen off the bed onto the floor, and Niall hates his things getting messed up.

Contrite, he picks it up and sets it on the desk, moving with a sigh to scratch Niall behind the ears. “Turns out you  _knew_ this was going to happen, you prick. Still don’t have the faintest  _why_ , but your mate Bressie says you won’t change back to human ‘til your pack’s all here.”

Niall’s head comes up, knocking Louis’ hand off, and his ears go straight back. Louis can’t help but smile, just a little. “So, Nialler, the real question is: am I inviting Zayn on this lads’ holiday or not?”

Niall whines and tries to burrow underneath the duvet.

* * *

“I have called you all here today,” Louis starts, and Harry-on-the-screen frowns.

“Not really day, is it? I mean, dunno where you all are, but -”

“Fine, thank you for your input, I’ve called you all here tonight because -”

“We’re sort of not really  _there_ , I mean, unless you’re counting our voices. But that still doesn’t really include Niall.” Liam frowns a little from inside his small skype screen.

“I liked it better when you were both terrified of me,” Louis mutters and then says loudly, “WE ARE ALL HERE, WHETHER IN PERSON OR OVER SKYPE OR VAGUELY STONED, in order to bring you all up to speed.”

He waits a beat, but everyone looks sufficiently attentive. Well, Zayn technically looks somewhere between murderous and thirsty in Harry’s general direction, but Louis ignores this with the ease of long practice.

“This is all Harry’s fault,” he anounces calmly.

There’s immediate uproar, Harry protesting that it absolutely is  _not_ , because he hasn’t even  _seen_ Niall in months, and Zayn pointing out snidely that perhaps that  _was_ the issue, which leads to the two of them holding furious eye contact in each other’s direction for an uncomfortable amount of time as Liam worriedly asks Louis if he’s  _sure_ it’s Harry’s fault and tries to assure Harry that there’s another explanation, to which Harry is paying not the slightest attention.

“A _hem_ ,” Louis says loudly. “If you lot are quite finished arguing and trying to eyefuck each other from a continent away, I’ll go on. Honestly, you’re worse than Freddie. All this whinging before I’ve even got to the point.”

“Yeah, how about that point?” Zayn says, sounding snotty, probably because he doesn’t like being reminded that he actually still loves them. Well. By ‘them,’ Louis mostly means Harry, here. Because he’s grown as a person, he doesn’t point this out, instead continuing, “Right, so. As it turns out, Niall’s always had some sort of latent ability to turn into a wolf. Either because his name’s Niall or because he’s Irish or some other reason I don’t really care about. At any rate, he had control over this other form so long as he was with his pack, but once he  _wasn’t,_  his wolf form takes over. Sort of a - protection thing, I suppose. Bressie wasn’t particularly clear. The point is, Brez says he’ll change back as soon as his pack’s all here.”

No one says anything for a long moment, and then Harry coughs. “I’m in London.”

“That’s lovely for you.”

“Liam’s in London, too.” Harry says, like Louis can’t see Liam’s posts on social media just as well as Harry can.

“You can catch the same flight out, then. Be lovely for you - like old times. Harry can try and grab your dick a few times to add whatsit.”

“Verisimilitude?” Zayn says helpfully, and Louis snaps his fingers.

“Exactly, thank you, Zayn.”

“First time that’s been said in a while,” Harry mutters.

“Look, Haz, we know you’ve got a whole new bunch of lads to sexually confuse and it’s making you extra serial-killer-y right now, but we need to focus. Obviously you’ve got to fly out here because I’ve got Freddie tomorrow, so this is the most logical place to meet.”

Liam’s eyebrows draw together. “What’s his mum going to think about you having a wolf about the place? No offense to Niall, of course.”

“Dunno, what does the missus think about Watson?” Louis snaps. He’s perfectly capable of handling the situation if it arises. And anyway Bria hardly ever comes inside for more than a minute.

“I can be there by tomorrow, Lou,” Zayn interrupts, looking up from his phone. “Got a red eye out’ve JFK. Want me to get a car or can y’pick me up?”

This is the kind of diabolical cleverness that made Zayn such a good partner in crime. With Zayn locked in, Harry and Liam have a very limited window to get on board as well or else look like they care less about Niall than the guy who left him.

In short order, they’ve agreed to all be at Louis’ house within three days, Harry and even Liam trying not to look as disgruntled as they feel.

As soon as they’ve all signed off, Louis goes to find Niall, who’s been prowling for the past hour in Louis’ backyard. Thankfully the privacy hedge he made sure was there for Freddie’s sake serves just as well to hide a massive wolf.

Niall comes bounding up to him, tail going and mouth open in a happy pant. Louis crouches down to pet him, which somehow turns into Louis flat on his back, scritching as hard as he can through the thick fur as Niall wriggles ecstatically on top of him.

At one point Niall reaches around and grasps Louis’ wrist very gently between his powerful jaws. Louis freezes, heartbeat rising. But he’s - not scared, not nervous, even though his entire hand could disappear down that massive gullet. He knows with the same certainty he knows his mum loves him still that Niall is never going to hurt him, not in any form or fashion.

He gazes steadily back into Niall’s eyes, still the same post-transformation, until Niall whines, letting go of his wrist and rolling over on his back, stomach up. Without quite knowing why, Louis reaches down to tap Niall’s muzzle before getting up and brushing himself off.

“Just a heads up, Nialler - Zayn’ll be here tomorrow, and Liam and Harry probably the day after. You’ll - it’ll be alright?” he ends a little uncertainly.

They haven’t actually talked about the other lads much, beyond a passing mention here or there. Well, besides the time last year when they were both really drunk and Louis had said, “You really shook that arsehole’s hand?” and Niall had laughed in a way that would’ve been bitter if he’d been less drunk and replied, “Wasn’t going to give him anythin’ else to go on about to the press, was I?”

But apart from that - despite what he says in interviews, he has no idea if Niall and Harry have spoken at all the past God knows how long. He’s honestly a little more worried about that than he is about Zayn coming.

And, well. He and Liam haven’t exactly talked much either, after what happened at the Brits. He texted to tell him congratulations when Bear was born, of course, but it all feels awkward in a way it never has with Liam, not even back in X-Factor days. He shakes himself. This isn’t about him, it’s about Niall. Niall and Liam are  _fine_. He looks at Niall, but Niall doesn’t seem at all worried about any of it. He’s wagging his tail slowly back and forth on the ground, picking up all sorts of debris, head on one side quizzically.

Louis sighs. “C’mon then, lad. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

It turns out that wolf-Niall  _really_ hates baths. He sat perfectly still as Louis brushed his coat out with one of the dogs’ brushes, but as soon as Louis tried to wash out some of the mud Niall whined and ran to hide under the bed.

After a fruitless ten minutes trying to coax him out, Louis gives up for the night. “Stay muddy, Niall, but you’re not getting on the furniture til you have a bath.”

Niall promptly ignores this, jumping up on the bed as soon as Louis goes into the bathroom to get ready for bed. He’s curled comfortably on Louis’ nice white down comforter when Louis comes out and pants happily and not at all repentantly as Louis sighs at him.

“Suppose that’s what washing machines are for. Budge over, then.”

Louis shoves 200 pounds of unwilling wolf far enough to one side that he can crawl underneath the comforter. Niall pushes his nose into Louis’ armpit. Louis knees him in the ribs. Niall makes a low grumbling noise and rolls over so his entire weight is sprawled across Louis’ lower half.

Louis - gives up. They’ll negotiate bed-sharing and baths in the morning.

* * *

 

When he opens the door in response to Bria’s texted ‘here,’ she looks him up and down. “Generally we take our clothes  _off_ to shower,” she comments, setting Freddie down before he starts to fuss.

A part of Louis will never stop being amazed that Freddie’s so consistently excited to see him that he’ll fuss if he can’t get down right away.

Louis crouches for his hug, laughing as the lad wrinkles his nose. “Daddy wet!”

Briana smothers a laugh. “He’s got that right.”

“Had a bit of an accident trying to give one of the dogs a bath.”

She nods, eyes going behind him. “Is Eleanor here with Bruce? I haven’t seen her in a while.”

Obviously it’s fantastic that Briana and El get along so well, but at the same time it’s a little terrifying. The thought of the two of them together is as intimidating as  _fuck_. “No, she’s - not here at the moment. Just me and the dogs.”

Briana eyes him. “What’s going on?” she demands, hands going to her hips. “You’re being all - weird.”

“I’m not - being  _weird_ , I don’t know what you’re - “

They’re interrupted by a low  _woof_ from the other room followed by a squeal of delight from Freddie.

Louis and Briana look at each other and simultaneously dash for the next room.

Niall is sprawled on the rug and Freddie is astride him, tugging joyfully at his ears. He looks up at his parents, beaming. “Dog!”

Louis sags back against the doorway. Briana looks significantly  _less_ relieved for some reason, stepping forward like she’s going to snatch Freddie away.

“Bria, he’s alright.” Louis gestures to Niall patiently letting Freddie drum his heels into his sides. “Niall won’t hurt him.”

She stops, turning to look at him incredulously. “You named a dog after your ex bandmate?”

“ _Bandmate_ , and I - “ He stops, floundering a bit. “Er. It’s complicated?”

“The same kind of  _complicated_ your fans’ relationship with reality is?” she asks sarcastically.

“Bri.” Louis reaches up to push away fringe that isn’t there anymore, tugging at his ear instead in a gesture more Niall’s than his own. “I’m sorry, alright, you know I am. You know if I could say anything to make them stop - “

She puts out a hand, sighing. “I do know. Sorry, that wasn’t fair of me. I just hate it for - “ She stops, grimacing, but finishes, “Well, for mom and Austin, mostly. And Brett and Ashley, of course.”

“I know about  _that_ ,” Louis mutters. He feels something warm and heavy against his legs and looks down to see Niall leaning heavily against his shins, Freddie still gleefully straddling his back as Niall thrusts a cold nose into Louis’ hand.

“Daddy!” Freddie kicks Niall in the ribs again, bouncing a bit. “I ride dog!”

“Yeah, lad, I see that.” Louis kneels down, rubbing a hand over Niall’s ears with one hand and reaching to gently still the baby’s foot with the other. “Let’s be gentle, though, alright, love? Gentle, like this.” He takes Freddie’s hand in his own and strokes over Niall’s head. “See?  _Gentle_. Can you say thank you to Niall for playing with you? Say  _thank you_.”

“‘Fank.” Freddie says happily, and Niall turns his head to lick his small leg affectionately. Freddie giggles. “Ew!” he says, clearly delighted.

“He’s givin’ you a kiss, sunshine boy. You want to give him a kiss?”

Freddie nods and Louis reaches hurriedly to steady him as he nearly face-plants in his enthusiasm to get down and give Niall kisses.

Louis straightens from his crouch, leaving Niall and Fred to their ‘who can give more kisses fastest’ contest and trying not to groan at the ache in his knees. “An old grandad at twenty-five,” he grouses.

Briana’s looking at Freddie, the almost disbelieving fondness Louis is very familiar with from pictures of him with his son on her face. “He’s so  _fearless_ ,” she says, “he just walked right up and started playing with this dog that’s easily five times his size.”

“He’s a brave one,” Louis agrees, even if it’s a little less impressive to him, knowing Niall would sooner bite his own tail off than hurt a fingernail of Freddie’s. Still, he’s never going to  _not_ brag about his son; that’s ridiculous.

Briana sighs. “I’ll let you get on with your day. He still won’t wear shoes, so - make sure the yard’s safe, I guess, if you go out to play.”

“We’ll be careful,” Louis promises. “Freddie, say bye to mummy.”

Freddie clambers off Niall long enough to give Briana a hug and a rather doggie-smelling kiss before he’s back to trying to pounce on Niall’s tail before he can swish it out of the way.

“I’ll leave his bag by the door. Bye Louis. Bye Freddie; be good for daddy. Bye Niall.”

* * *

 

Niall, unsurprisingly, is no better at footie as a wolf than as a lad. Despite this, he and Freddie have a fantastic time trying to kick-slash-headbutt the ball and falling over in a fit of giggles (Freddie) or in a shameless bid for pets (Niall).

They’ve been playing for a little over an hour when Louis pulls out his phone to check the time and bites back a curse. Zayn’s texted him his flight details and Louis’ll only make it if the traffic gods see fit to bless him. He slides his phone back in his pocket and claps his hands. “Niall! Freddie! C’mon, time to go in.”

He watches, a little bemused, as Niall nudges Freddie toward Louis, gently interposing his substantial bulk whenever the lad tries to turn around or dodge a different direction, and Louis realises he’s  _herding_ him. He pulls his phone right back out. He’s not missing videoing  _this_.

Freddie runs straight into his leg, still giggling, and Louis bends over to swing him up. “Hiya, lad. Did you have fun with Uncle Niall?”

Freddie nods, giggling more as Louis pokes him in the stomach. “We’re going to go for a ride in the car, alright? Niall, you coming with?”

Niall turns round and pads over to a patch of shade and flops down, panting.

“Reckon that’s a no, then. Just a lad and dad outing.”

Traffic is predictably awful, but somehow Louis feels a lot less swear-y with his son in the backseat babbling cheerfully at his stuffed monkey.

And one positive about the stop and go (but mostly stop) is it lets him turn ‘round to check on Freddie more often.

“Should we have some music, then?” Louis pulls his phone out and scrolls through his library. He’s surprisingly reluctant, he’s found, to play any of the diriter or sexier stuff he’s got with Freddie in the car. Even if he knows he can’t understand it.

He hesitates a second before he navigates over to his email and finds the folder Liam sent him almost a year ago. He’d sent it with a message that just says ‘whenever you have the time to look Id love to get ur thots x Payno’ and Louis had noted the time and had wondered a little sourly if Liam was allowed to be up so late with him all settled with a missus and a baby on the way.

Louis had ignored it at the time, telling himself he’d get around to it while knowing he probably wouldn’t, and then he’d promptly forgotten about it until Niall had texted to ask if Louis had heard Liam and Ed were writing a song together. Louis had texted back a possibly incomprehensible message with rather too many combined emojis and curses (it was also possible he’d been a bit tipsy) and Niall had texted back the crying-laughing emoji and that had been it.

Louis certainly doesn’t feel guilty about any of it in any way.

And Liam wrote this ages ago. Probably doesn’t want any feedback anymore. But. No harm in a quick listen, is there? He queues it up and drops the phone in the cupholder.

The opening bars of the first song are soft, and it’s obviously just Liam singing into his phone or sommat, because it’s a bit crackly, but Liam’s voice is just as sure and smooth as ever.

In the backseat Freddie claps his hands and yells, “Daddy!”

Louis turns round to smile at him and give the soles of his feet a little tickle. “No, love, that’s Uncle Payno. Can you say, ‘Uncle Payno is not a lad’?”

Freddie just grins at him and says “Daddy sing!” again.

Louis shakes his head as he faces front again. “One of these days, lad, you’ll realise not everyone’s on the radio or the telly. And don’t think your mum didn’t tell me about you thinking it was me when a Taylor Swift song came on last week. Had a right laugh about that, your mum.”

Freddie is happily occupied counting his toes and has no reply to make to this.

Zayn has a security guy Louis has never seen before waiting with him when Louis pulls up to arrivals, and he gives Louis a brief nod as Zayn slides into the backseat from the corner where he was lurking and probably chainsmoking.

“You comin’ along with?” Louis asks the guy, ignoring Zayn for the moment. Just because he’s not Preston or Alberto is no reason to be rude.

“No, thanks man. Zayn, you good?”

Zayn gives the man a lazy thumbs up and he taps the edge of the car window, waves to Louis, and heads back into the airport.

“This is my son, Freddie,” Louis introduces casually and not at all as though he will absolutely kick Zayn right out of the car if he says anything remotely negative.

“I know; I’ve seen pictures,” Zayn says, in response to which Louis manfully does not bring up the whole ‘I’ve done all I can do’ business, and is rewarded by Zayn adding, “He’s a dead ringer for you, mate.”

Louis can’t help but feel pleased. “He is, isn’t he. Freddie, this is Uncle Zayn. He’s not your godfather or anything, so don’t get too attached.”

Zayn reaches over to poke Freddie very gently in the stomach by way of a hello. Freddie promptly punches him rather hard in the arm in return, because he is, in fact, a dead ringer for Louis. And Louis and Freddie may or may not have spent a whole day a few weeks ago playing superheroes - mostly Hulk and Thor - in a way that mostly consisted of pretend-punching one another and ‘dying’ dramatically over and over.

“Your kid just punched me,” Zayn says flatly.

Louis waves him off as he pulls out in front of someone, cutting them off. They honk at him and he flips them off on principle, even though they won’t see it through the tinted windows. “You probably deserved it. And anyway, he’s a baby. Can’t have hurt that much.”

“Thought you were supposed to teach kids not to hit,” Zayn grumbles, because he’s always happiest when he’s grumbling about something or other.

Here Freddie interrupts by banging his book on the edge of the carseat and demanding ‘sing!’

Louis obediently turns on the stereo and has to suppress the immediate desire to turn it right off again as Liam’s voice comes crooning out of the speakers. “Fred asked for it,” Louis mumbles, and Freddie helpfully backs him up by yelling, “Daddy sing!”

Alright; sort of backs him up.

“No, lad, remember. Not daddy; this is Uncle Liam.”

“Leem,” Freddie repeats and then smacks Zayn with his book.

This time Louis intervenes. There’s a difference between playing pretend and actually hitting. “Freddie, no. We don’t hit people with books, lad.” He uses the red light to turn around, catching both Freddie’s hand and his eyes. “No more hitting, yes?”

Freddie nods, looking upset, and Louis smiles at him, squeezing the hand still in his own. “Good lad. I love you, okay? Just be gentle.”

“Love you.” Freddie says back, and Louis drops a kiss on his hand before turning back round.

“The other lads won’t be in til tomorrow, so it’ll be the four of us for now.”

“El’s not there?”

“Nah, she’s got a thing this week.”

Zayn nods. “Was glad to hear you were back together. Didn’t seem right, you broken up.”

“Just lucky she took me back, aren’t I.”

There’s a short silence, filled with the sorts of things that pile up in silences that lasted two years and plenty of cheating allegations. Some true and some not. There’s a beat of particularly tricky silence before Zayn clears his throat. “This song’s sick, innit?”

This one’s more RnB than the others have been. Not exactly Louis’ style, but certainly exactly Zayn’s. “Yeah, I reckon. You gonna do that collab he’s been talking about, then?”

“Mate, Liam hasn’t talked to me in a year.”

There’s another short pause while they contemplate the one-time impossibility of this, and then Louis says, “Well, you could always do something with Harry, I suppose.”

And then Zayn spends the next half hour sulking and Freddie (not sulking, but beginning to be grumpy) falls asleep and so it’s a lovely peaceful ride back.

When they pull up by the house, Louis turns around to see Zayn’s sulked so hard he’s fallen asleep all worn out from it, head pillowed on Freddie’s car seat and one finger grasped firmly in Freddie’s little hand.

Naturally, Louis takes several pictures before waking them up. He does think about dumping water all over Zayn to wake him up, but it might wake up Freddie and then he’d have a very stroppy baby and a mess to clean up besides, so he just smacks Zayn’s cheek (gently) until he grumbles himself awake. This, he supposes, is what is meant by ‘being mature.’

Then Louis very carefully unbuckles Freddie and lifts him out, trying not to wake him up, and then of course he  _does_ wake up and screws up his face in the way he does when he’s making up his mind whether or not to throw a birkett. He sees Zayn, climbing blearily out of the car, and the sight of a near stranger is enough to start him squirming and fussing.

Fortunately at this critical moment Niall comes trotting out to greet them, ignoring Zayn entirely in favour of rearing up on his hind legs and nosing, gentle, at Freddie’s cheek.

Obviously Freddie is delighted, and he leans far forward enough trying to kiss Niall back that Louis quickly sets him down so he can do it properly. “Niall, can you take him in for a nap? He can just go down in my room; I”ll give him lunch after he wakes up.”

Niall’s tail beats an affirmative and he and Freddie set off back into the house, one of Freddie’s hands buried in the fur of Niall’s neck.

“That went better than I expected. Usually he’s a little monster if his nap gets interrupted,” Louis says, cheerful, and snags Fred’s diaper bag from the back seat.

Zayn is staring after Niall and the lad, his mouth open. He turns to Louis and says, sounding very flat, “Mate, Niall is a  _fuckin’ massive wolf._ ”

 

* * *

 

Niall and Zayn’s first interaction is actually rather anticlimactic. Zayn is still more or less stunned by reality (honestly, Louis had thought they’d settled this ages ago. Niall’s a wolf now. It’s not that weird), and Niall had gone up to Zayn after Freddie was properly asleep, sniffed his hand, sneezed, and then turned round and tried to climb into Louis’ lap.

Zayn had announced he was going to go call Gigi and gone off, sulking again.

Louis and Niall had a very peaceful afternoon watching the match until Freddie woke up wanting his dinner.

Liam texts to say they’ve just gotten to the airport and should be in tomorrow. And that they’ve got a car lined up so Louis won’t have to bother about picking them up. Louis shows the text to Niall, who reads it and cocks his head at Louis.

“Listen, I’m not trying to be difficult,” Louis says, feeling defensive and wishing he weren’t. “It’s just - what does he mean by it, you know? Is he avoiding me for as long as possible? Or maybe he’s being passive-aggressive, like, oh you offered to pick  _Zayn_ up from the airport but not me so now Harry and I are going to get a car together after crossing the Atlantic together because we’re best friends now.”

The expression on Niall’s face, insofar as there is an expression, is dubious.

“Fuck’s  _sake_ , Lou, he’s just being nice! You’re worse than a girl. Overthinking bloody everything!” Zayn shoves his mobile in his pocket and storms off. Except it’s Zayn, so obviously he looks more like a panther stalking haughtily off into the jungle. The jungle here being Louis’ back garden.

Louis looks at Niall. “Was that sexist? I feel that was a bit sexist.” Danielle used to wince sometimes when he’d said things like that, and when he’d asked her later what was wrong she’d explain it to him and it would make sense, once she’d said it, even if he’d never really thought anything of it before. He still doesn’t always get it, not all the time, but that felt like the sort of thing she would have winced about.

Niall licks his feet, which...gross, and also doesn’t really answer his question. He pulls out his phone and opens his messages.

_is it sexist to call someone a girl for overthinking something_

He sends the text to El and waits a couple of minutes, but she doesn’t respond right away, so he shrugs and puts his phone away. He looks down at Niall. “We’ll be alright, though, won’t we?” he asks, hating the uncertainty he can hear in his voice. “I mean. Zayn’s just being a bit of a prick ‘cause of him being uncomfortable, yeah? And Bri says I can keep Freddie through til the weekend, since I’ll be gone so much doing promo the next bit, so if anyone starts growling - no offence, Nialler - I’ll just throw a baby at them.”

Niall gets up, stretching and giving himself a good shake before padding over to Louis and climbing on top of him. He’s enormously heavy, not to mention warm, but the weight of him is comforting anyway. Louis sighs, squirming about on the couch until he’s lying more parallel to Niall, burying his fingers in Niall’s fur much like Freddie had earlier. “Weird, though. Worrying about it this much.” He absently starts working the knots out of Niall’s fur with his fingertips. “Didn’t ever think we’d be here, y’know? That it’d be such a struggle, with Zayn and Payno of all people. Really  _fuckin’_ weird, getting on better with Harry after everything and not them two.” He can’t stop himself from swallowing hard around the words, glad of Niall’s fur blotting out any stray tears before they really go anywhere. “Glad we’re still - alright. Don’t reckon I could take it if we fell out. You’re our center; always have been.” He snorts softly. “Catch them all coming if it was me, honestly. Well, they would’ve if it had been you asking, I guess. Still got us all wrapped around your finger. Paw. Whatever.”

Niall whines, licking at Louis’ cheek before he stops, head swinging round to the doorway. Louis cranes his head around as well and sees Zayn stood there, looking stricken.

He groans, burying his face back in Niall’s fur, but it doesn’t do any good. Zayn comes properly into the room, body language tentative as he settles himself on the floor in front of the couch. “Are things that bad, Lou?” he asks, quiet.

“Now you care,” Louis says snippily, but this time Zayn doesn’t go off in a sulk. He just waits, eyes steadily on Louis’ own, and  _damn_ but his eyelashes are unfair. Especially taken with his jawline. And general face-age. Thing. Face. He’d gotten out of the habit of having Zayn’s attention solely focused on him, is all.

“It’s - not great,” he mutters. “I mean, it’s all fine, obviously, like - it’s  _us_ , like. There’s nothing like the kind of shit Dan likes to write or any of that. It’s just. Harry wanting the break was hard. And then all the shit with - “ He stops, unsure.

Zayn nods. “‘m not saying this to Harry. And I still don’t regret leaving. But the way I did it.” He shrugs, ever so lightly, and he looks at Niall as he finishes. “It was shit of me, and I’m sorry.”

Niall stirs, gently lifting himself off of Louis and nuzzling Zayn’s chest. He butts his head into his chest again and then his stomach, waiting just a second before repeating the motions. Zayn looks puzzled, but Louis sits bolt upright as he realises. “It’s your thing,” he says, feeling like someone’s just headbutted  _him_ in the stomach.

Zayn still looks confused, and Louis impatiently mimics Niall’s motions on himself, hand going right, left, and then to his stomach.

“Fuck,” Zayn whispers, looking stricken. “Fuck, Niall. I’m - I’m so sorry, of course I remember, I just -” and as Niall lays his head in Zayn’s lap, he begins to cry.

Louis gets up and tiptoes out of the room. Everyone gets thirsty after a good cry; he’ll go and make tea. His mum always says it’s the best restorative there is apart from hugs. Always  _said_. She always - used to say. Fuck. He stops, one hand on the kettle. He can be fine, and then he’ll - hear her voice, just like she was right there, or forget and - it hurts all over again, just the same.

He gives himself until the kettle goes to suffocate in the sadness and ache of missing her, and as it begins to whistle he shakes himself briskly, much like Niall had earlier, and reaches for the mugs.

Zayn and Niall are still tangled together on the floor as Louis comes back in with the tea. He has an odd flicker of memory - almost an echo overlapping the present - of Niall and Zayn lying just like this three years ago. Zayn had just gotten off the phone and was clearly in an awful temper, but before Louis could suggest finding somewhere to smoke up Niall had tugged Zayn down to the floor with him and tangled their limbs together much the same way as now (minus the fur) and held on until the tension had seeped out of Zayn’s limbs and he’d fallen asleep right there on top of Niall. They’d had to move him to the couch later so Niall could go take a piss.

But cuddles and smoking up hadn’t been enough. Nothing they’d done had been enough, but back in the present, looking at Niall's head resting on Zayn’s thigh and Zayn’s arms curling protectively around him. Maybe it’s just - different. Not as urgent - it’s not the five of them against the world the way it used to be. There’s not the same ever-present need to throw yourself on the defensive in interviews or with fans. They’ve grown up, Louis realises, a little absurdly. He and Liam are  _dads_. He’s closer to thirty than twenty at this point. Obviously they’ve grown up. But it’s something more than that. He’d been so scared of losing them and what made them them that he’d held on too tightly. It wasn’t until things were ripped out of his hands that he realised he actually had stopped needing them with the same desperate urgency he used to.

It used to be his whole body would ache like he had a fever when they’d had scheduled ‘non-1D-time’ on tour until he’d snuck into Zayn or Harry’s room and pestered them into giving him a cuddle. He’d gotten better at ignoring it over the years, or changing the cuddles into tactile nights smoking up with Zayn or waterfights with Payno. When they’d had that awful meeting, Zayn calling in on skype to say this was it, that he wasn’t coming back this time, Louis had clenched his fists in his lap and wondered if any of the rest of them were feeling the same achy fever he was. Harry certainly hadn’t been, he thinks sourly.

But he’d gotten used to it, the weariness that went right down to his bones, and he stopped noticing it, mostly, and anyway everything was better once Freddie came. And then with everything with his mum he hadn’t had time to think about himself, really. Steve helped. Louis is never going to stop being grateful for how Steve had taken everything in stride and had hauled him in for hugs when Louis hadn’t felt he could ask and dealt so graciously with all the intensity that came when the fans adopted someone. And for Danielle, putting up with him at his lowest point and sitting him down and telling him that she’d always care for him, but she wasn’t going to get any farther along in a relationship with someone still in love with someone else.

The happiness he’d felt being back with El and the routine check-ins with Niall had kept the ache at bay, but something about the present scene is bringing the worst of it back. He just barely keeps himself from joining the pile on the floor, settling instead on the floor a safe distance away.

“Got some tea,” he says softly, setting Zayn’s on the side table and Niall’s (in a Hulk mug that was maybe supposed to be a soup bowl) by his head.

“Thanks, bro,” Zayn reaches for it, taking a deep draft and sighing in pleasure. “Always did make the best brew. Can you believe the shit that passes for tea over here?”

“Mate, I  _know_. Whenever I make the trip I pack in like boxes and boxes of Yorkshire bags. Fuck paying those shipping costs.”

There’s a short silence and then Zayn says, “Reckon I could borrow Freddie? If Harry has a go at me, like.”

“Throw a baby at him and run?” Louis grins. “Would work better if it was your kid and you were middle-aged.”

Zayn chuckles, low. “Be a while before I’m on Cordo’s level, won’t it.”

“‘Fraid so. I’ve got it locked up, though. Got a baby. Not serious competition on the charts, not going into fashion or acting.” He snorts. “I even take all the Larry shit.”

“They still going on about that?” Zayn rubs his fingers over Niall’s (impossibly soft, Louis knows) ears. “Like. You’ve got a  _kid_. You and Harry haven’t even been on the same side of the Atlantic for the better part of two years.”

Louis shrugs helplessly. “Mate, I don’t even know. Bad enough all the strain it put on our actual relationship, but poor Briana’s got the worst of it.”

“I remember.” Zayn’s mouth is set. “Sorry I couldn’t do more.”

“Nah.” Louis sets his empty mug aside, locking his hands around his knees to keep himself from burying his face in Niall’s side. “This point they’re not going to listen to anyone. I’d hire a sodding skywriter if it’d help, but they’d just say management made me do it. Probably see them still insisting I’m shacking up with Harry when I’m a granddad and happily married to El.”

There’s a short silence. Louis looks up from his hands to see Zayn and Niall both looking at him apprehensively.

“You’re...gonna propose again?” Zayn’s free hand rubs at his mouth.

Louis rolls his eyes. “Not anytime soon. I’m not looking for a repeat experience. Just - y’know. A few years down the road’s different, innit.”

Zayn makes a noise that could be taken either way and they sit in silence for a few minutes. For the first time in ages, though, it’s not uncomfortable.

“Think it’s bedtime for me.” Louis stands, stretching.

Zayn nods. “Same here.”

“Have any room you like, apart from the little lad’s.” Louis reaches down to give Zayn a hand up.

There’s a noise like the soft  _fwump_ a towel makes when you think you’ve tossed it onto the counter but it misses and falls to the floor instead.

Except instead of a towel it’s Zayn’s clothes, because he’s not in them anymore, because he’s a wolf now.

Louis blinks. He looks at his hands and then back at the wolf - Zayn, who blinks back at him, golden eyes much more calm than Louis feels the situation warrants. “Do I have superpowers?” he demands. “Like, turning people into wolves superpowers? Because that’s - okay, it’s kind of awesome, but not if I don’t know how to control it! I can’t be turning people into wolves whenever I go out to the shops!”

Neither Zayn nor Niall seem bothered. Niall’s tail is wagging furiously and he’s licking happily at Zayn’s muzzle and rubbing his own muzzle along Zayn’s flanks.

Zayn’s own tail is going as well, more slowly, but his ears are pricked forward happily.

Louis stares at them for another long moment and then throws his hands up. “I’m going to bed. I’ll text the rest of the lads in the morning.”

Niall’s been kipping with him the past few nights, sprawled heavy and warm across Louis’ feet, and as he brushes his teeth he wonders if he’ll be back tonight or if he’ll stay with Zayn now that he’s a wolf, too.

But when he pads out of the bathroom there are two wolves lying on his bed. There’s an odd tug in his chest at the sight, like he’s just figured out a particularly tricky bit to a song he’s been working on all day. “Well, budge over then,” he says gruffly, but he suspects neither of the wolves are fooled. Niall licks at his chin and Zayn mouths at his wrist until Louis pulls away and pushes his head away. “It’s sleeping time, not cover Louis in saliva time.”

Niall  _whuffs_ at him, but he pads readily down to the end of the bed and flops onto Louis’ feet.

Zayn curls into a tight ball at Louis’ side, silver-grey nose tucked tight to silvery tail. Louis can’t help but run a hand all down his spine, fingers sinking into impossibly soft fur. He realises with a little shock that this is the first time he’s touched Zayn properly in over two years.

It feels - not half so odd as he’d thought it would, so long after the last time and with so much happening in the between. He very firmly pushes away the memory of that last time he and Zayn had - touched.

Look, it hadn’t been that big a deal. El had. Left, and Louis was a bit drunk and a lot maudlin, and Zayn had hauled him onto Bus 1 to sleep it off. And maybe Louis had started crying and going on about how everyone left and he didn’t even realise that the last time he’d kissed her was the  _last time_ , yknow, Z? So what if Zayn had finally shoved Louis down on his bunk and climbed on top of him and they’d snogged until Louis was in a thoroughly kissed-out stupor. And then maybe Zayn had stripped them out of their sweat-stained things down to their pants and they’d gone to sleep skin-to-skin in that tiny bunk like it was 2012 again. And then three weeks later Zayn had left him too, and Louis had written some songs that were certainly not about anyone in particular. Or else obviously just about El. One of the two. Which was a completely normal thing to do, write songs about your ex. Ex girlfriend. Not ex bandmate; no one did that.

Anyway he’d been totally fine and nothing had been awkward or weird at all and Zayn had been a wanker about the whole thing, so it hadn’t been worth thinking about. Except Zayn’s apologised, and now he’s a wolf, and his fur is  _really_ soft, and he’s warm against Louis, and.

Alright, so he’s practically cuddling him like a giant plush toy, but Zayn’s not complaining, so Louis is just being nice and not shoving him away when Zayn snuffles sleepily closer like a big ball of fluff.

Just being nice is all. Perfectly reasonable. Logical. Whatsit. Rational. Normal.

* * *

 

He’s woken the next morning by a realisation that his mouth is full of fur (literally, not in the normal gross morning kind of way) and a baby is giggling somewhere close by. Shit.  _His_ baby is giggling, and he supposes the fur belongs to his wolves.

He groans and bats someone’s tail out of his mouth, hauling himself upright. The fur in his mouth was Zayn’s, because the lazy sod is still sound asleep curled up tightly next to him exactly like his human self used to.

The giggles are coming from Freddie, who is chasing Niall round and round the room and bursting into fresh fits of delight every time he falls over in his chase.

Louis fumbles for his glasses, shoving them onto his face in a way that’d always made his mum wince. “Morning, lad. Morning, Nialler.”

Freddie shrieks, “Dada!” and attempts to scale the side of the bed. Niall assists by nosing his way under Freddie’s rump and giving him a hefty boost.

“Guess that answers the question of who helped him out of the crib.” Louis looks sternly at Niall, who pretends not to see it. “Alright, then, lad, up you get. What should we do today, hm? Have some brekkie? Jump up and down on Uncle Zayn til he wakes up?” He sniffs the air and pulls a face. “Fresh nappy first, though, I reckon. We’ll jump on Zayn after.”

He gets Freddie cleaned up and in a new outfit and swings him up on a hip to go down to the kitchen. Once he’s got the baby settled in his chair and happily mashing a banana all over his face he pulls out his phone to text Liam and Harry about the new development.

_zayn is a wolf now too lol i think i hve superpowers what should my name be_

Harry texts back,  _wolfman is too obvious, I suppose. How long can we keep him that way?_

Liam’s is just a lot of question marks and then  _we just landed b there probably in two hrs dont turn anyone else into a wolf_

Louis glares at his phone.  _i do what i want,_ he sends back and then  _okay i’ll leave the door unlocked just come in whenever_

Niall and Zayn come bounding into the kitchen, jumping around his legs and demanding food, so he gets them sorted out and makes Freddie an egg for some staying power. Afterwards, Freddie has to have a bath and another set of clean things because he’s got banana and egg all over everything, and then they read a book, Niall and Zayn sitting absurdly still and attentively while he reads ‘Trucks Go’ to an equally attentive Freddie. He almost drops the book when his front door opens and Liam’s voice calls, “Tommo? We’re here.”

Niall’s on his feet, haunches quivering with suppressed need. Zayn’s turned round and is licking his flanks like he doesn’t care, but his ears are flicked all the way forward. Louis sighs. “Go on, then,” he says to Niall, and he’s gone in a scramble of nails on the hardwood. “You needn’t pretend you don’t want to go piss on Harry’s shoes,” Louis tells Zayn, “go on.”

Zayn makes a noise halfway between a sneeze and a snort, but he gets up and follows Niall out.

“Book!” Freddie says insistently, and Louis picks it back up and finds their place.

“The fire engine goes, ‘WHEE-OOO WHEE-OOO WHEE-OOO,’” Louis reads obediently, but before he gets to the box truck there’s a sharp bark from the next room and Harry’s voice swearing and he’s swung Freddie up and is heading towards the entryway before he’s even thought.

The sight he comes upon shouldn’t surprise him, really, given - well, the givens. Liam and Harry are still stood in the hall, and Niall’s got both front paws on Liam’s shoulders, licking his face estatically.

The surprise is Zayn, stood stiff-legged between Harry and Niall, hackles raised and growling very low in Harry’s direction. Louis rolls his eyes and wades in, smacking Zayn on the nose with a handful of junkmail he picks up off the side table. “Leave off!” he says sharply. “Harry’s just as much a guest as you are.”

Zayn sneezes and looks at Louis reproachfully.

“Even if you were protecting Niall, there’s no call to be growling. There’s a  _baby_ present.”

Zayn looks suitably ashamed. Niall doesn’t. He bounds back over to Zayn and licks happily at his muzzle. Harry has his ‘I definitely don’t care about anything happening right now because I do yoga and drink smoothies now’ face on, which is such utter bullshit, but whatever. Louis will deal with that later.

“Payno! Harold! Come on in. Just drop the bags anywhere. Oh, you already have. Lovely. Do you need breakfast? If you do you’re making it because we already ate.”

“Hi Tommo, hi Freddie.” Liam’s eyeing his baby covetously, which is absolutely beyond the pale. Liam has his own son now; there’s no need for him to be looking at Louis’ son like that.

Freddie, being the lovely lad he is, waves happily and babbles something with the word ‘dog’ mixed in somewhere. Harry stops making his vaguely constipated face and smiles back at Freddie, as well he should. Louis stoops and sets Freddie on Niall’s back. “Want to go outside and play with Niall, love?”

“Dog!” Freddie says, which Louis takes as an affirmative. Niall gives him a look that says he knows exactly what’s happening, but he takes Freddie out the back anyway.

Zayn looks like he’s seriously considering weeing on Harry’s (predictable) Chelsea boots. Louis gives him a warning look and he goes over and nuzzles into Liam’s hand like he’d never thought  of doing such a thing.

Harry clears his throat. “Some breakfast sounds great, thanks. D’you have a blender or a smoothie maker?”

“Uhm. I have eggs. And maybe some bananas.” Louis thinks back to his last grocery delivery. “Lots of cereal.”

“Cereal’s great by me, thanks.” Liam strokes a hand over Zayn’s ears.

“I probably don’t have any milk,” Louis says, despite having seen a nearly full jug not two hours ago. “You’ll have to have it dry or make some eggs, I guess. Zayn, we’d better go check on Niall and Freddie.”

Harry’s looking at him with his eyebrows nearly to his hairline, Louis can tell, but he ignores this. He’s being perfectly mature and reasonable about seeing Liam again since That Night.

He wonders a little bleakly if he’s just going to have That Night with all of them from now on. Except for Niall, of course. Niall’s great. He’s also never made out with Niall, drunkenly or otherwise. Well, there was that one time after the charity match, but that didn’t really count. It’d just been a friendly snog, like. And no one had told him that they were leaving or about to go hook up with someone else or that they were trying to figure some stuff out, so it certainly doesn’t count.

Come to think of it, does that mean - “Zayn,” he says abruptly, stopping out of earshot of Niall. “Have you and Niall snogged?”

Zayn looks up at him, looking like he wants to roll his eyes.

“Obviously I know you’re a wolf. You can still  _nod_ , can’t you? Fine. Bark once for yes and twice for no.”

Zayn barks once, sharp.

“Right,” Louis mutters, thinking furiously. “So I’ve made out with all of you, and you’ve at least snogged all of us - oh, don’t even, you and Harry weren’t subtle - and Harry’s probably kissed half of London by now and has settled down happily to just hanging ‘round Nick for the rest of his days. Have Liam and Niall snogged, then?” He shakes his head. “Wait, no, that can’t be it. Even if they hadn’t, it wouldn’t account for...” He trails off, muttering to himself.

Zayn waits, tail curled neatly around his haunches. Louis feels like he’s thinking harder than he has in months, probably, like there’s something just outside the tip of his brain that he’s going to think of at three in the morning, except he can’t afford to wait that long. Something Bressie had said, about Niall turning into a wolf as a defense mechanism? And there was an offhand thing Niall had said months ago about Harry, and the hiatus, and - he stops, stock still. “I’ve got it. Zayn, I’ve got it! I know why Niall’s a wolf!”

Zayn lifts a hind leg to scratch his ear. Miffed, Louis glares at him. “Thought you’d be a  _bit_ more pleased, seeing as you’re a wolf as well,” he snipes but ruins it a second later by rubbing Zayn’s ears thoroughly before they go in to tell the others. He hesitates over whether or not to go ahead and tell Niall, but given the subject matter it’s - he might as well get the yelling over with before he does.

“I’ve solved it,” Louis announces once they’re all in the living room.

This is not greeted with the level of enthusiasm he expected.

Liam actually looks a little disappointed.

Graciously ignoring this, Louis continues, “Like I said at the beginning, this is all Harry’s fault.” He pulls out his phone and begins hunting for the file Niall sent him last week.

Before anyone can start yelling, he hits play. Niall’s voice, soft and a little weary sounding, comes tinnily through his phone speakers.

_when you feel your love's been taken - when you know there's something missing -_

There’s a dead silence in the room as the song finishes. On the couch, Harry shifts uncomfortably. “I don’t see how that makes this my fault. ‘S not even about me, necessarily.”

Louis raises an eyebrow. He hits play on the next song. Thirty seconds in and Harry is looking more and more defensive, which means he definitely hears it just as much as the rest of them do. “Look, Haz, we all know you. You camp out for a while in people’s lives and then you move on. I get it. But you had no call doing it to Niall and leaving all this tension. It messes us all up, you know that.”

“Hang on.” Harry looks like he’s about to throw a fit. “That’s not fair! Niall and I have talked plenty! And besides, you’re one to talk about tension - you’ve not said a thing to Liam since we got here!”

“Liam and I are fine,” Louis snaps. “Don’t project your issues onto us.”

“Oh?” Harry swings around. “Liam? What do you say?”

Liam looks deeply uncomfortable, but both Harry and Louis have their arms folded across their chests, obviously not about to give in. “I don’t -” Liam swallows, fidgeting with his stupid chain. “I mean. It has felt a - little different. Since I told you about -“

“Alright, Liam, that’s enough, thanks,” Louis interrupts, feeling a hot flush start to creep up his neck.

“I want to hear it,” Harry says, stubborn. “Go on, Liam.”

“I mean. I just - didn’t think it was that big a deal was all. Me ‘n Chez. You did get a bit shirty about it, Lou.”

Louis says, feeling just a touch hysterical, “You’d just had your tongue down my throat! What, I was supposed to cover up the massive lovebites and let you go with a ‘oh, nice to see you, too; let’s talk again never’? You left me! Just like  _everyone else!_ ”

The silence that drops like a bin kicked over in the middle of the night highlights his ragged breathing as he struggles for control.

Zayn whines, pressing into his legs, and Louis sinks slowly to the floor, glad of the warmth of Zayn’s fur as he runs shaky hands through it.

“Lou -” Liam starts and then stops. “Louis, I didn’t - I didn’t mean to - I didn’t know you felt like that.”

Louis sees movement out of the corner of his eye, and a little to his surprise it’s Harry sitting down next to him, looking a little sick. “Is that - is that how Niall feels as well? LIke we’ve just - abandoned you both, because we wanted the break?”

 _Damn_ Harry for picking now of all times to be perceptive. He clears his throat. “I - shouldn’t we be focusing on getting Zayn and Niall back to normal?”

Harry knocks his elbow into his side. “You said it yourself,” he says softly, “this is - I did this, if I - made you feel like this. And  _Niall,_ shit, I - you know I never meant to hurt Niall.”

“If you’d thought of that sooner and bloody  _called_ once in awhile, maybe we wouldn’t be  _in_ this mess.” Louis’ voice wavers a little despite his best efforts.

Harry looks taken aback nonetheless. “I - he didn’t call.”

Louis feels very tired suddenly. “No. He didn’t. Because he knew you were going to do this, because you do it to everyone. You move around people like they’re stationary planets and you’re a little spaceship, free to zip in and out of other people’s orbits just as you please and they’ll stay right where they are waiting for you to come back. Sometimes people like to know you’ll keep visiting after you’ve gotten bored with the landing dock, Haz. He’s watched you do this over and over. Are you really that surprised he didn’t call first?”

Harry doesn’t say anything, fingers plucking at his mouth.

“So how do we fix this?” Liam asks, quiet.

“Dunno for sure. Bressie said it would happen once all his pack was here, but we’re all here and Zayn and Niall are still all - furry, so.” Louis shrugs. “Maybe we all have to be touching him or sommat.”

“We can try different things,” Liam says stoutly and then he stops. “Lou - about earlier. Not. Not just now, but. Last year. I didn’t mean to make you feel like I was abandoning you. I was - I’d had a bit to drink, and I’m not really. I mean, I know we’ve kissed before, and obviously...Zayn...but like. I’m - not gay.”

Louis feels like protesting that he’s not gay either, but since when had that ever mattered when it came to these boys, but Harry catches him in the ribs again before he’s standing and moving - no, sauntering - towards Liam. He’s making up for his lack of hair to flip with a swing in his hips, and beside him Zayn makes a whining noise, up on his feet and staring stiff-legged at Harry.

“Are you sure about that?” Harry asks, planting both hands on either side of Liam’s head and looking very deeply into his eyes. “Are you really...quite...sure.”

Louis can see how hard Liam swallows from four feet away. He can sympathize. It’s been years since Harry’s attention was on him like that, but he remembers the sheer incredulity he’d felt that anyone could make a murder stare like that look attractive.

“Just kiss him and be done with it, H.” Louis doesn’t have all day to sit around waiting for Harry to bamboozle Liam into remembering he’s not as straight as he thinks he is. Or to remember how well up for it he’d seemed when they’d snogged their way into a stupor last year. And when Liam and Zayn had come back from that ‘playfight’ with very red mouths and cheeks and then blabbed about it to some Spanish gossip mag. Come to think of it, he hasn’t spent years stockholm syndrome-ing Liam into loving cuddles for him to get all weird over a little kissing. “Actually, Harry, you might have the right idea.”

Harry had been looking like someone had, in fact, wee’d on his favourite pair of Chelsea boots, but now he brightens right up.

“I mean, if Liam is sure he isn’t gay, a little kissing between mates - that hardly even counts as kissing, does it?” Harry looks more predatory than Zayn, who is currently an actual predator. “You know, Louis, you’ve got a point. I mean, since he’s so straight, Cheryl will understand everything that happened in the band was just a bit of fun. Who among us  _hasn’t_ casually gotten off with a bandmate, right?”

“Lads -“ Liam tries, but they’ve both advanced on him, and Louis’ fingers are instinctively reaching for his nipples as Harry swings himself atop Liam’s thighs.

It’s a scenario that’s played out hundreds of times in hundreds of hotel rooms and interview couches, and the overlap of memory is so strong Louis almost expects Paul to pop his head in and holler for them to knock it off.

He feels a cold nose nudge into the back of his knee and rolls his eyes. Alright, not exactly the same. There’s a shriek from Liam as Louis makes contact with his nipples (really, you’d think he’d have grown out of that by now) and then - two more sets of clothes strewn ridiculously atop the two wolves that have appeared in place of Liam and Harry.

Louis huffs, stepping back and putting his hands on his hips. “Oh, come  _on!_ What, so I can turn everyone else into a wolf but not myself? How is  _that_ a fair deal? And how am I expected to feed all of you? Just ruin all me dishes letting you lot shove them around the floor?  _No_ idea what we’re going to do longterm! I’ve got a performance next week! Niall’s tour starts in a couple of weeks!” He stamps angrily out of the room and out of the house, whirling around at the door to glare at the three wolves following him cheerfully. “And don’t think you’re going to get out of any hard conversations just because you’re wolves and can’t talk!”

Liam’s tail is beating a tattoo against the ground and Zayn is yawning. Harry is -

“ _Harry_ , that is  _disgusting_ , don’t do that in public!”

Harry stops, looking surprised. He turns around in a circle pointedly, like, I’m an animal and never have to wear clothes so what exactly is your problem.

Louis stares, shaking his head slowly before whirling round and stalking out to where Niall and Freddie are playing happily in the back garden. “Niall! Come run the rest of these idiots off for me, won’t you?”

He’s clearly overridden in this decision, not only by Freddie’s delighted shrieks at more ‘doggies’ to order around, but by Niall streaking past him so fast there’s only a blur of golden fur before he disappears in an equally ecstatic pile of puppies. Louis hauls Freddie up out of the saliva-zone and watches incredulously as all four of the lads go through what seems to be a sincerely thrilled reunion.

“Hang on, I thought we were mad at people,” he complains, feeling a little miffed that apparently he’s the only one still upset on anyone’s behalf. “I was being all mature about everything! There was  _communication_! What, just because you’re all wolves now everything’s fixed?”

He turns around pointedly and starts walking back to the house, to Freddie’s audible displeasure. “I’m going to be the  _only one with a successful career!_ ” he yells over his shoulder.

“No, Daddy! No go in! Dogs!” Freddie looks about two seconds from staging a one-man rebellion against the establishment and going back out to be - ha - raised by wolves.

“We’re going to have some lunch, Freddie! You can play with - with the dogs later, yeah? After lunch.”

“Dogs lunch?” Freddie asks next, because he’s a conscientious lad, and  _fuck_ but he looks actually properly upset, and even as disgruntled as he is he can’t possibly ignore that.

He stops, turning round again with a sigh. “Lads! Who wants food?”

The results are both predictable and very hot. Once he digs himself out from under the pile of wolves and mops the saliva off of his face, he’s wondering if it’d be worth it to just forget the whole thing and run away to Amsterdam again. But then he looks at Freddie, having his hands washed by Harry’s absurdly long tongue and absolutely through the roof about it, and he just heaves another sigh and goes in to find something for lunch.

After lunch, Liam pads after them as he goes to put Fred down for his nap, presumably to make sure he’s doing it right since he’s  _such_ an expert now, and sits listening with his head a little on one side as Louis reads ‘Trucks Go’ and ‘Hop on Pop’ to the lad and rocks him til he drops off to sleep.

There’s always a little period between when Freddie’s eyes start to droop and when he actually falls solidly asleep where it’s dangerous to move too much, so Louis is stuck with a mostly-asleep baby and a bandmate he’d rather not be one on one with, even if the other person in the equation can’t talk.

Liam just lays down on the floor, though, head between his paws and eyes on Louis’ hands rubbing Freddie’s back like an actual dog waiting for someone to slip him scraps underneath the table.

“We’ll get this sorted,” Louis says, soft so he doesn’t disturb Freddie. “You’ll be back with your lad soon, I promise.”

Liam huffs a sigh, head settling down on his paws, eyes still trained on Louis. They sit in silence for another couple of minutes, the only sound Freddie’s sleep-heavy breathing, and it’s not exactly oppressive, but something in Liam’s huge sad eyes is making Louis feel like he needs to explain himself further, even though Liam was obviously the one in the wrong.

“It’s no good you being all upset about me not calling, because you left first.”

Liam doesn’t seem impressed by this logic.

“I mean, fine, I could still have called, but you were all busy getting cosy with Cheryl and then the baby, so really you wouldn’t have had time anyway even if I had called.”

Liam whines, pawing at his muzzle like he’s knocking off a fly, and Louis rolls his eyes. “You could’ve called as well, you know. Don’t put this all on me.” He stands up, making a few crooning noises as Freddie’s eyes half open. They slide shut again quickly enough, though, and he settles him down in his crib.

Liam gets up as well, coming over to Louis and mouthing at his hand. Louis jerks it away and closes his hand over Liam’s mouth. “What is  _with_ all of you and putting my hands in your mouth! Leave off!”

Liam licks his hand and face apologetically before rolling over on his back and flashing his stomach at Louis, who sighs and kneels down to give him a bit of a rub. “Alright, apology accepted, I suppose. Come on, let’s go find the others before we wake up Freddie.”

 

* * *

 

 

They come down to find Zayn sitting placidly on top of Harry’s head while Niall watches with his tongue lolling happily out of his mouth. Harry doesn’t seem particularly fussed either; his tail is beating slowly against the floor and he’s panting quite cheerfully underneath Zayn’s haunches.

“Don’t come running to  _me_ when he suffocates to death,” Louis says snidely and stalks past them to the kitchen to put the kettle on.

His plan to have a nice quiet cup of tea free of any wolves or bandmates or combinations thereof mucking it up is swiftly foiled by Niall following him into the kitchen and sitting down at his feet. He looks proper sad, eyes fixed steadily on Louis’ own as Louis tries his best to ignore them.

He’s making himself a cup of tea, and then he’s going sit down and drink it like a normal human being, and then he’s going to - well, he’s not quite sure what he’s going to do at that point, but nowhere do his plans include giving in to a pack of wolves just because someone gives you sad - ha - puppy dog eyes.

He fixes his tea and puts the milk back in the fridge and turns ‘round to find that the mournful eyes have multiplied themselves. Alongside the blue pair there’s now a brown pair, a golden pair, and a green pair and for fuck’s sake he’s starting to sound like a Dr. Seuss book. He picks up his mug and edges out the side door. He’s still going to sit down and drink it like a normal human being.

Except that as soon as he sets it down on the end table he’s betrayed by two huge forms rushing him and tripping him up so he topples to the floor. “Niall!” he cries from underneath Liam and Harry, “Niall, I thought you were my best mate!”

Niall just wags his tail happily and does absolutely nothing to stop the others from putting their paws all over Louis’ sensitive bits and literally coating his face in saliva in their efforts to give every inch of it a wash.

Zayn is looking smug as shit, the backstabber, grinning at Louis from his vantage point atop Louis’ sofa, and having a 47 kilo wolf grinning at you is no laughing matter, even if said wolf did used to be your best mate.

Louis gives up struggling, exhausted and resigned to the fact that his tea is certainly going to be cold, and says grumpily, “Alright, you’ve got me, now what?”

Zayn slips down off the couch, coming to settle across his chest. Liam and Harry are currently pinning his arms down and Niall is laying across his feet. Harry turns his head and nuzzles just under Louis’ ear, resting his muzzle there a long moment before licking briefly at the spot and moving away. Zayn’s next, stretching his neck to reach the same spot and repeating the process, followed by Liam. Niall’s last, and he takes the longest with it, nosing gently up Louis’ hairline and across his collarbone before settling into the crook of his neck with a long sigh that sounds like contentment. It gives Louis a very odd feeling, not just from the weirdness of the whole thing, but the way each interaction seems to be settling something in his own body.

He realises a second later what the oddness is - the ever-present ache that’s been there on and off the past seven years has gone. It used to die down after a nice long cuddle or (he tries not to be bitter remembering when it used to be the norm) a snogging session with one of the others, but it’s gone entirely now, like he’s a completely normal lad again without any weird touching, achy bits. Like whatever the hell it was they just did was some kind of mystic surgery that took that part of him out or - filled it up all the way to the top for the first time.

There must be some sort of continuation here, some way to bridge what happened then and make how they are now work, but he can’t - it’s the difference between the first time they ever performed What Makes You Beautiful and the hundred thousandth. The excitement and nerves of performing your new single to thousands of people giving way to comfortable familiarity and the knowledge that even if you messed up it didn’t really matter - there were plenty of other people to pick up the slack.

There’s not the same pressure of the band being the thing keeping them all together, but there’s still the knowledge of how Niall likes his tea and Harry hates being alone after a night out and Zayn needs plenty of time after having to perform to come down and if he shoots Liam with a water pistol he’s certainly going to turn ‘round and grin at him in that heartstopping way. All the little things are grooved into his heart like the carpet between the bunks on their first tour bus was.

Maybe they really didn’t know how to  _be_ outside of the band. Outside of the  _them_. Drifting was inevitable and distance was undeniable, but they were all here, weren’t they? When it mattered, they came. Even Zayn. He lifts his head and meets Zayn’s eyes. Zayn looks back, golden eyes shuttering in a slow blink. Louis looks next to Harry and Liam, who both give him pricked-eared smiles, and then at Niall. Niall glances at him and then very gently tugs Louis’ trouser leg up with his teeth and licks over the screw on his ankle.

Louis lets go.

* * *

 

“Louis?” Briana drops her keys on the side table. “You didn’t answer my text about picking Freddie up a bit early, but I was on my way back so I thought I’d just check -”

She stops dead in the living room doorway. The entire room is in shambles, all of the throw pillows and blankets in a heap on the floor, and on top of _that_ heap is another heap. This one comprised completely of wolves piled on and around each other so snugly there’s no real way of telling where one ends and another begins. She blinks. There’s a high-pitched, happy yipping, and a very small wolf separates from the rest of the pack and bounces over to her, barking and jumping up as high as he can, which isn’t much. For a split second she thinks wistfully of running away and hiding in a nice dark closet somewhere, but her brain has already put together the scene from three days ago and connected it with the blue eyes - Louis’ blue eyes, as the fans have so often tearfully informed her - of the pup in front of her, and she already knows as she kneels down exactly where her son is.

Holding his furry body close, she marches over to the pile of wolves and unearths Louis from near the bottom. He tries to hide behind Liam and she hauls him out again, leaning in and saying calmly, “What the  _fuck,_ Louis.”

 

* * *

 

It turns out when Louis turns back into a person (followed by Harry and Niall, and fuck but they were. Very naked. Very. Very naked. Not that Louis wasn’t, but she’s far too upset with him to actually notice or care that much, but it’s a little difficult  _not_ to notice the others when they’re at once very much naked and also very much just as entwined as humans as they were as wolves) that he does not actually have a ‘really good explanation for this’ like he’d promised ten minutes ago.

What he does have is a lot of pictures of Freddie playing with the boys, which he proffers pleadingly, like a bunch of shots of her son riding on Niall’s back or napping with Zayn or sitting with Liam curled protectively around him as human-Harry reads him a book is going to - alright, that one is pretty cute.

“He’s not a wolf in these,” Briana points out. She feels like she’s being very calm about this, but the way Liam winces and burrows further underneath Zayn’s stomach may indicate her volume’s a bit high.

“Er.” Louis looks sheepish, going to rub at his neck before going bright red and putting his hand back down where it was. “I.”

Briana rolls her eyes and pulls a couple of blankets off the heap. She throws one at Louis and a little less aggressively tosses the other over Harry and Niall, although they’re too busy mouthing at each others necks to pay her any mind.

“Thanks.” Louis wraps the blanket around his waist. “Although, it’s not like you haven’t seen it before, I guess.”

“I think Eleanor might have something to say about it now,” she says dryly.

“Nah.” Louis tries to tug the edges of the blanket away from Freddie, who is pouncing delightedly at the tassles. “Thinks you’re right fit, doesn’t she.”

Briana blinks and shelves that as something to text Ashley about later. “Louis.  _Why is my son a wolf_.”

“That’s, uhm. We don’t actually - Niall’s Irish?” He sees her face and backtracks. “I mean, that’s not a - it’s a thing! Apparently! He just - turns into a wolf sometimes, and like, it’s about pack, and we’re pack, so it just sort of - I went to get him up from his nap and as soon as we got him out he just, uhm.” He looks down at Freddie and then back up at her, pleading.

“Right,” she says slowly. “So in other words, you have no idea how or why any of this happened. Do you know how to turn him  _back_?”

“Oh, yeah, we figured that out pretty quick once we realised none of us could get into the fridge.” He kneels down and rubs his face along Freddie’s, one hand gently smoothing over his tiny ears. Freddie noses back at him, snuffling a bit as he bites at Louis’ chin, tail wagging frantically for a moment before he’s tumbling into Louis’ lap, chubby arms and legs fully, humanly intact. “There’s my lad!” Louis laughs, gathering Freddie up in a hug and ruffling his hair. “Look who’s here, kiddo!”

“Mommy!” Freddie lights up and she catches him in a solid hug of her own as he excitedly babbles a confused account of the last couple days, although the only intelligible words are ‘dog’ and ‘Niall’ and ‘Daddy.’

“You had fun with daddy and his friends?” Briana asks, smiling back at him and smoothing his hair down.

“Niall!” Freddie says proudly, pointing. “Go for ride!”

Niall emerges from underneath the blanket, followed by Harry’s rumpled head. He grins at them. “Hiya, Bri. We had fun, us’n the lad.”

“Hi, Niall. Um. Hi, Harry.”

The only time she met Harry was backstage after a show, years ago now, and Lottie had thrown out a casual, “This’s Harry, of course. Harry, this is Briana,” and she’d looked at the sweaty and breathless specimen in front of her nodding a hello and she’d nodded back and that had been it. Later, of course, she resented him like hell for slipping so easily away from social media and the conspiracy theorists that dogged her own family with a kind of relentless despair.

The Harry of today smiles at her. “Freddie’s really lovely,” he says, voice sleep-rough, “thanks for letting him stay.”

“Sure,” she says, automatic, and then realises exactly how he gets away with everything he does, up to and including murder, probably. She glances over at, presumably, Liam and Zayn, still pretty clearly wolves. “Are they alright?”

Louis follows her gaze and waves a hand dismissively. “They’re just avoiding actually dealing with anything. Can’t talk about sh - stuff. If you’re a wolf, y’know. Easier not to change back.”

“Right.” She frowns a little, but it’s not her business, is it. She has enough drama to be going on with.

“I’ve got his stuff up in his room; I’ll go get it.” Louis heads for the stairs, trailing a hand over one of Niall’s knees as he passes.

Briana realises she’s staring and jerks her gaze away, but that’s no good either, because Zayn is watching her calmly from his sprawled position on the floor. Liam is assiduously licking his ears.

“Mommy, I play? I play Daddy?” Freddie’s tugging on her pants, looking after Louis anxiously. “I play Daddy and Niall and Leem?”

She crouches, smiling as best she can. “You had fun, didn’t you, baby? We’re going to go to Mommy’s house now, okay? And see Uncle Austin? He’s missed you!”

“Tos!” Freddie says, looking excited again. It’ll be much harder to navigate all this once Freddie isn’t so easily distracted, but at this point she’ll take the easy ones.

Louis comes back with sweatpants on and Freddie’s bag in one hand. “All right, lad, can you say bye to everyone?”

“Bye!” Freddie shouts cheerfully, running over to Zayn and Liam and flinging himself on top of them. Zayn licks his foot and Liam nudges his cheek with his nose, making Freddie giggle.

“Bye, Fredster!” Niall says cheerfully, leaning forward to rub his nose against Freddie’s. “Come back soon, yeah? We’ll go for another ride.”

“Ride dog!” Freddie says, nodding. “Bye bye!”

“Goodbye,” Harry catches one of Freddie’s waving hands in his own and shakes it solemnly. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Come on, then, give your dad a hug and a kiss.” Louis kneels, holding his arms out.

Freddie runs happily into them and Louis  _oofs_ , pretending to fall over. He does the same thing every time, but Freddie still thinks it’s hilarious. Louis smiles softly down at him as he giggles, pressing a long kiss to his hair before handing him over. “Alright, then. I’ll text you when my schedule’s more lined up?”

“Sounds good.” Briana hesitates before leaning in and kissing his cheek. “See you, Louis.”

“See you.”

As she hoists Freddie onto her hip and swings the diaper bag over her other shoulder, reaching for the front door, it opens of its own accord, revealing a startled Eleanor. “Oh, hi, Bri. I thought that was your car. Hi, Freddie.”

Freddie waves.

“We’re just on our way out. It’s nice to see you though.” Briana stops for a second. “Um. Have you got the dogs with you, by any chance?”

“Yeah, they’re in the car. I was going to drop my bags off before getting them. Why?”

“I think Louis had better explain. Just - uhm. You might want to leave them in there just a while longer. We’ve got to get going, but it was really good to see you! Text me later about the thing, okay?”

“Um, okay. Drive safe!” Eleanor sounds completely mystified.

Hands full, though, Briana can’t quite manage to get the door shut all the way, and so she hears very clearly as Eleanor steps through to the living room and the subsequent -

“Louis. What the  _fuck_."


End file.
